Save for the Soul
by Seiichi-Le
Summary: It started off with Frau being captured by Ayanami to lure out Teito... then I lost all control. "I" being me, the writer. Warnings: Yaoi, dark themes, might feel like it goes on forever. Enjoy.


Note: This time I will give you a summary. Here it is. Frau is captured as bait for Teito and Ayanami enjoys this to the fullest. There. That works, right? Warnings are yaoi and dark themes. Enjoy.

**00000**

"Tch, damn," he cursed, cringing from the pain throughout his body. He blearily blinked his eyes, his vision partially impaired by his sweat-drenched blonde locks. His vision shifted drunkenly, before his eyes were able to focus on his surroundings. He glanced down below at the innocent altar a few meters from his dangling feet, the empty pews lined up systematically before him. The only light was the moonlight shimmering through the stained glass windows, a beautiful splash of color playing out on the red carpet.

He caught the sweet metallic scent of blood tickling at his nose and his eyes scanned the room for any signs of the source. A slow dripping noise whispered by his ears. He craned his neck to the side, noticing the thin line of red from his wrists, the little droplets clinging desperately to his flesh before they dropped down to the puddle forming below on the marbled steps. A wave of nausea brushed over him and he was finally aware of his current predicament.

The pain must have numbed him from realizing how he hung so ironically. Thin black threads were tied all across his limbs, biting into his flesh. He shifted slightly, cringing at the feel of the splinters from the rough wood behind him hooking into his skin. He futilely struggled against the threads, which were the only things holding him to the planks of wood. He felt exhausted, all of his energy spent. He wanted to rest his tired body.

"Frau…" The familiar voice sounded just as tired as he was. He was shocked back to life, eyes frantically searching the room he had assumed was empty.

"It couldn't be..." He tensed up, ignoring the pain of the threads pushing against his muscles. His eyes trailed across the middle aisle, down the red carpet, and towards the two closed doors. It wasn't the doors he was looking at but the one who stood before them. Those lonely emerald eyes stared back at him, a look of desperation slowly filling them. "No…"

"Crucifixion always intrigued me," the sickeningly sweet voice poured out, echoing across the spacious area. A man stepped out from the shadows beside those emerald eyes, resting a dark gloved hand on the other's shoulder. The man let out a chuckle, the deep baritone reverberated inside of him and he wanted nothing more than to sink his scythe deep inside that man's chest. "It seemed appropriate for a bishop like you."

"Get out of here, Teito!" He screamed out, letting out an agonizing yell as the black threads dug deeper into him. Even from here, he could see the beautiful soul before him and he was burning the image into his mind. How long would it stay that beautiful, that untarnished? "Leave now!"

He didn't have to look to know the hideous smile spreading across the man's face. He coughed, spewing out a spray of blood, not caring for the liquid that dribbled from the corner of his lips. He let his head hang down, the energy sapping from his body once more. His breaths were shallower, and the burning in his lungs grew more fierce.

"Stop it, Frau," the soft voice quivered, the trembling fear evident in the owner. He could tell how hard the other was trying to hold back his tears. "Please… stop…"

"You should be thanking him, Zehel." The gloved hand grasped at the boy's chin, lifting the face enough so the dull moonlight could paint across his face. A single digit rubbed at the full lips, before caressing the shivering cheek. "After all, he _is_ trying to save your pathetic life."

"Ayanami…" The bishop growled out the name like poison. He clenched his fists tightly, before trying to regain his composure. If he couldn't save the boy as Frau, maybe he could as the Ghost. He focused his soul to depart his body as Zehel, but before he could transition fully, he was struck with a terrible pulse of darkness, the tremendous force shoving him back into his physical body. He let out another anguished cry from the pain scorching across his entire body.

"Those threads should look familiar to you," the Black Hawks leader began with the smirk still present on his lips. "I improved on Fest's threads, so there's no interrupting us, Zehel." The warsfeil gestured for the boy to walk with him, taking purposely slow steps towards the bounded bishop. He was pleased with the way the boy trembled beneath his hands. He paused when they were at the closest pew to the blonde Ghost, and turned to face his younger companion. He chuckled lightly at those pure green eyes trying so hard to be defiant. All he could see in those eyes was the fear. "Let's make a deal, Teito."

"Damn brat, run before it's too late!" The blonde man cried out, his voice going hoarse from the strain. A gloved hand grasped at the brunette's face, commanding over Teito's attention once more. The silver-haired man ensured that all of the boy's attention would be focused on him at the moment, adding pressure to where his fingers met with the other's chin.

"Surrender to me your everything," Ayanami began, leaning down to be eye level with the brunette. "And I will let Zehel go free."

Those green eyes wavered, the fear slipping in and out. The silver-haired man watched the inner turmoil carry on in the boy, amusement slipping onto his own face. The fear Teito was holding wasn't for his own sake but for the Ghost. This boy's soul was definitely beautiful and deliciously uncorrupted.

"Do we have a deal?" The slight bob of the boy's head would've almost gone unnoticed, but that was the only signal he needed. The gloved hands easily began stripping away the clothes on the other, not caring for the rags left behind, leaving him naked and trembling. His eyes were clenched shut, stray tears pinched out of them. The feel of leather ran across his chest, tracing out the gently defined muscles of his abdomen. He shuddered under the touches, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip. Small droplets of blood slipped out, littering his tongue with the coppery taste.

It was like an invitation for the older man, as he claimed those bloodstained lips, his tongue lapping at the few stray drops. His mouth was filled with the bitter sweetness. He forced his tongue in deeper, eliciting a gasp from the innocent boy. He then left the bruised lips alone, his satisfaction with them complete, before moving onto the unmarred neck. He sank his teeth in deep, and his senses flared from the scream erupting from his prey. He sucked hungrily at the blood that poured out, savoring the taste on his tongue. His hand rummaged through the dark locks of the other, before forcing them to be face to face

"If you want to enjoy this, why not picture me as Zehel? We have rather similar eyes, wouldn't you say?" Ayanami leaned down to the brunette's ear, letting his hot breath caress against the boy's neck. "If I was Zehel, this would be okay, wouldn't it? Shall we play pretend?" The blush and denial that masked over the boy's face only added to the man's satisfaction, his hunger lust slowly building. "Just look into my eyes, Teito Klein."

The brunette hesitated, before letting those twin green eyes pry open. Those childish eyes stared deeply into his own violet ones, a haze slowly filtered across those untouched gems. They would just play pretend, only this would be so much more real. The smirk grew on his face, an insatiable warmth beginning to grow in him. It was a sensation he hadn't felt in so long. This boy was definitely created just for him. His hand grasped at the back of the boy's head, crushing their lips together once more. The boy's tongue grew bold, seeking entrance into the other's moist mouth. An enticing moan surged from the boy's throat, followed by desperate grinding of hips.

"Damn brat." Frau's voice was reduced to a desperate whisper, clamping his eyes shut from the hideous act playing before him. His body shivered at the soft moans drifting from his apprentice's mouth, wondering how much more his sanity could take. His mind cruelly displayed images of the young brunette in his conscious.

The warsfeil shifted over to the nearby pew, sitting them both down with Teito still in his lap. The boy's eagerness was driving Ayanami's self-control away. The older man grasped at the boy's bottom, squeezing the untouched skin possessively. He sank his fingernails into the flesh, inching his hands closer and closer to their destination, eliciting pleasureable moans from his victim. Without any warning or preparation, he sank himself deep into the boy, a sudden scream filling the room. The warm blood that trickled out seeped into his pants, the sensation going unnoticed as he was too focused on the warmth encasing him. Tears streamed down from once-innocent green eyes, and the boy's muscles clenched against the unwanted presence inside of him. He licked at the salty tears pouring from the boy's eyes before whispering into his ear. "Look into my eyes."

Teito knew the moonkissed strands that were lying at the edge of his vision, but it was those eyes that enraptured him. It was the tinge of violet that melted into his frame, the darkness behind those eyes pulling him in. He was drowning in those amethyst eyes and all he could see was the sun. All he could see was the soft golden meadow and the purple washing over with the ocean blue.

His green eyes glazed over, and the image of the man before him easily melted away, letting a vision of a smiling blonde bishop overlap into his mind. Reality snapped away from the prince and he relaxed into the older man's lap. He whimpered, before moving his hips. He grasped the man's shoulders, thrusting his body again and again. He could feel the sweat dripping from his collarbone and the unforgiving hands covered in leather bruising into his hips.

"Frau," the Raggs prince whimpered out, the room growing hotter around him with each wave of pleasure. He dragged his hands through the other's hair, seeing nothing but blonde tresses. "Frau."

The tied bishop snapped his eyes open upon hearing his name. He couldn't tear his sight away from the scene, watching as his charge continued to thrust upon their enemy over and over again. The cries of pleasure escaped the young boy's throat with his name mixing in with the moans. He could only watch as the insatiable youth's body writhed in pleasure before those sadistic eyes. Those eyes too close to his own.

"Enjoying the sight, Zehel?" Ayanami's cruel voice resonated in him and he cursed at himself. He felt his own arousal growing, the image of his young charge riding the other man playing in his head. The fact that the brunette was calling his name was only pushing his sanity away even further.

A final scream tore through the darkened church, Teito's body burning from the release inside his body that mimicked his own. He crumbled down from the exhaustion, ignorant of the hands that rested him on the cool marbled floor below. He felt lifeless. Those fingers were bare now, the pale digits walking casually across his warm flesh. They traced along his chest and abdomen, carefully choosing their destination. They rested right below his navel, soft stroking the skin from hip to hip.

"As promised, I will let your precious Ghost go," Ayanami whispered across across his navel. Teito had to strain to listen, slumber slowly trying to capture him. "But before I do…" The words trailed off so innocently. He wondered if any of this was even real, letting his heavy eyelids close. The soft touches trickled through this body and he almost felt content.

A burst of fire ignited, replacing the once gentle touches. Agonizing screams ripped through his small frame, the unbearable pain clouding his senses. The smell of scorched flesh filled his nostrils and he could easily feel the warm liquid slipping off his hips. Just as quickly as it came, the fire extinguished, but an intense stinging remained. He tiredly lifted his arm and fingers at the charred skin and bile welled up in his throat.

"A gift for my little one" were the only parting words before the presence of the Field Marshal left his naked side. It was too much. His body was too tired and in too much pain. He had no more tears left. He vaguely wondered when his blood had gone so cold.

'_Rest, master_,' a comforting voice whispered, lulling his pain away, before he closed his eyes and let himself be taken away into the arms of sleep.

Ayanami bent over and lifted his fallen cap, brushing off any dust that had clung to it. He placed it on his head, purposefully making his movement slow. Then he glanced up at the tied bishop, a devilish gleam filling his eyes.

"We aren't so different, are we, Zehel?" He took deliberately slow steps towards the blonde, a smirk splayed out on his lips when he met with those angry eyes. "You are certainly a tragic one. Playing the pure role of a holy bishop when your darkness could even rival mine, and those thoughts of yours," he stretched out his hand and flicked at the pulsing warmth in the bishop's pants, "are full of sin."

The silver-haired warsfeil stepped down the steps, turning his back to the other. He glanced once more at the unconscious boy, the look of longing lost to anyone. He knew it wasn't time yet. Just a bit longer, he reminded himself. "I did make a deal, so I will uphold my end."

With a single gesture from his hand, those black threads broke apart and disappeared, along with their master's presence from the church. A sloppy thud resounded against the holy walls, a muffled moan of pain following after. Frau glanced up from his fallen bangs, trying to muster the strength to move. His arms grasped at the ground, his legs pushing off the marbled steps. He dragged his body across the floor, ignoring the ache from moving. He had only one destination in mind.

"Teito," he mumbled out, crawling with sheer willpower. His hand finally reached the clammy flesh of the other and he smiled as he felt the faintest of beats. His arm enveloped the unconscious body, not caring for the state either of them were in. He pulled the boy's body closer, pressing it against his own, unsure of who was colder. His body relaxed, seeing the still untarnished soul, although dimmed, was still as beautiful as he remembered. Everything was slowly growing warmer.

His eyes were getting heavy and he succumbed to the enticing embrace of sleep. Before he became lost in unconsciousness, he tightened his hold, pressing his lips gently against the prince's temple. He knew one thing for sure: he wasn't letting go.

00000

The first thought to hit his mind was how soft the floor had become and how incredibly warm everything was. He groggily opened his eyes, stifling a yawn. The second thought to run through his mind was how incredibly numb his left arm felt. He attempted to move it to gain some feeling back, but it was trapped under something, and that something was very warm.

He blinked the sleep out of his eyes, waiting for his hazy vision to focus. This feeling was too much of a deja vu, but at least he was warm this time around. He glanced at his side, seeing the chocolate hair peeking out from the crook of his shoulder. The gentle rise and fall of the chest beside him sent a wave of relief through him. He raised his hand and fingered through the soft brown tresses, marveling at the silky softness. His hand hovered above the face, a twitch of his finger revealing his nervousness. Gently, the pads of his fingers made contact with the sunkissed cheek. He wondered how this face made it through so much and yet not a single blemish marred the flawless skin. His hand paced slowly downward, his thumb acting on its own accord as it brushed lightly against the full lips. A soft groan of pain shocked him from his reverie. He watched as the closed eyes before him clenched tightly with the forehead scrunching in pain and the haggard breaths becoming shallower. He sat up quickly, finally noting the sheet falling off his frame and the soft bed they were currently occupying. He felt the morning breeze brush against his bare chest, but ignored it, opting to focus on the boy before him, worry filling his insides.

"Teito!" He called out the other's name, both hands reaching out, ready to wake the boy. A red gleam emanated from the brunette's right hand along with the presence of a blood-tinted orb. It almost seemed like the light was trying to wrap around its owner's body. The red glow brightened before fading along with the prince's painful expression. Soon, the sleeping boy's face was relaxed once more and his breathing evened out. The orb tucked away once more deep into the boy's hand.

The doors to the room slammed opened and familiar bodies rushed in, along with a small pink fyulong, who bounded straight for the bed. The blonde bishop winced at the sudden noise, before letting his eyes roam back to the sleeping boy who was still resting peacefully. He didn't have to look up to know who had entered the room, the familiar presences sending a calming relief to his face.

"Frau," the stern voice was followed by the serious look on the brown-eyed bishop's face. Then genuine concern took over, a soft look in the usually disapproving face. "You two were out for a full day. How are you feeling?"

"Been better." Frau emphasized the words when he winced after stretching his arms and letting his legs dangle off the side of his bed. He fully took in his surroundings, noticing his coffin laying not too far away. He looked down at his bare chest, lightly fingering the white bandages wrapped every which way. The bandages continued on parts of his arms and legs - he was very close to becoming a mummy it seemed. His eyes skimmed his limbs quickly, satisfied that his body had no permanent damage to it. A grin settled on his face when he noticed the freshly clean pair of boxers he was wearing. "Who do I thank for changing me?"

"That would be Castor." Frau glanced over at the owner of the soft, childish voice. The short bishop sauntered over to the blonde's side, fresh bandages in his arms. Labrador began changing the wraps, examining each of the cuts beneath carefully.

The unhindered smile on the puppet-lover's face unnerved Frau. An expressionless puppet dressed as a sister bowed before the blonde, as if receiving gratitude. "Don't worry, I made sure my hands remained untainted." Castor smiled, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

"Tsk," Frau pouted, his vision of a blushing sister trying to change him and having a nosebleed from viewing his immaculate body disappearing in a poof.

"I think there is something more urgent we should be attending to here," a younger blonde grumbled out, before heading to the other occupant of the bed, towel and water basin set in his arms. Hakuren smiled warmly at the small bundle of pink snuggled deep in Teito's neck before dunking the hand towel into the warm water and wringing it out. He gently wiped away the sweat perched on his companion's face before working on the rest of the body.

It was then the blonde bishop fully took in the state of his bedmate. The prince was without any clothes, his body still completely naked, contrasting deeply with the pure white sheets below. He was relieved when the younger blonde had the decency to leave a portion of the sheet to cover the brunette's private areas while scrubbing him. But even so, the indecency of the one beside him was uncalled for.

"Why didn't anyone give him clothes?!" Frau cried out, looking disbelievingly at the three men before him after he managed to pry his eyes off his slumbering apprentice.

"We would have but…" Hakuren trailed off, before looking away, a slight stain of pink coloring his cheeks.

"You wouldn't let us." Castor finished matter-of-factly. Inwardly, he was amused by the shock adorned his temperamental friend's face. He sighed, knowing he should explain the situation for his bewildered companion. "When we found you two, you had a death grip on Teito. We tried to pull your arms off of him, but you wouldn't budge. In fact, that unruly scythe there was none too happy with us trying to budge our little prince from your arms."

"Tch, that bastard weapon probably wanted to keep this soul to itself," Frau grumbled out, glad for the inability to blush, although it didn't lessen the embarrassment he was feeling. As Hakuren continued to wash off any grime that managed to stain his friend's body, he pulled the sheet further, revealing the unconscious boy's navel.

A frown settled over Frau's face, noticing the others' lack of reactions. They must have already known about it. His eyes couldn't look away, feeling a disturbing fascination with the burn marks across the brunette's stomach. A single name was now permanently etched into the boy's skin: Verloren.

"Can we erase it?" He watched as Hakuren slowly wiped at the skin surrounding the burns, carefully to not harm Teito in any way. He noticed the shaking hand of the bishop-in-training. If it was in anger or fear, he wasn't sure.

"He used zaiphon to create this mark. As you know, his zaiphon is very powerful and very potent in negative energy. The only way to remove this mark is to use the polar opposite, a positive zaiphon that is just as powerful. However, if we manage to negate his zaiphon, we won't know the effect it could have on Teito." Castor's unspoken words were left hanging in the air. "We don't yet know the impact of this mark, so I don't want to do anything hasty. But if we were to proceed, the one who could even come close to succeeding is-"

"Me." The soft spoken bishop interrupted, knowing full well who Castor was going to name. He brushed away an unruly strand of lavender hair to the side before focusing his attention back at the tattooed mark. The flowers were growing restless, and a sense of dread filled his body. He had an inkling that if they didn't remove the evil mark, they were going to lose the boy one way or another. "There isn't enough time left."

A solemn silence presided over them, leaving them alone in their own thoughts. They were caught up in an impossible decision. If they were to act too rashly, great harm - even death - could befallen Teito. If they took too long to do something, there was no way in knowing what would happen to him in the meantime.

"We know one thing for sure: that mark has to go." Frau's face remained serious, not caring to hide the turmoil running through his head as he spoke. "If what Labrador says is true, we don't have the luxury of time."

"Labrador is never wrong." Castor's eyes glanced towards the smaller bishop, who was staring outside the window. He could make out the conflicted look across the childish face paired with the clenched fists. The lavender-haired bishop was filled with a powerlessness. He felt like a pawn in a game, waiting for a greater power to move them all according to its will.

"Let's remove it," Frau's commanding voice filled everyone with apprehension, but the resolution in each of the room's occupants was clear.

Teito remained unconscious, the gentle tremors in his chest deluding them of the dangers looming over them. Casually covering him with a clean white robe, Frau carefully picked up the boy, shifting the unconscious body in his arms into a more comfortable position. A frown crossed over the his face.

"When this is over, I'm feeding him." The boy was much too light in his arms. The group of men traveled in silence down the seemingly endless halls. The intense aura hushed anyone they passed, a developing feeling of concern and dread sweeping through Barsburg Church. Rumors were soon spread, following the unusually serious faces on the three well-known bishops. With each twist and turn, the group arrived in front of two large grand doors, carved with the image of angels whose arms were outstretched towards the center. The puppet-master took the lead, pushing the solid doors open to reveal the empty chapel. Hakuren peered in with Burupya balanced on his head. His chest filled with the warmth at the beauty of the place from the glossed pews to the stained windows. His eyes danced across the clean deep burgundy carpet that trailed straight down the middle to the marbled altar that sat at the front. Stepping in, he felt like a force was sweeping him in, embracing him lovingly. He shook off the familiar feeling, noticing that the others had already reached the altar.

Frau gently placed Teito down on the floor, hesitant to break the contact. He let out a breath before stepping away. Opposite of him, he looked into the light brown eyes of Castor, a silent question being asked. The other man merely nodded, tousling his reddish brown hair before it swayed back into place. That was the only comfort he needed before he resigned into his own resolve.

Labrador was the last bishop to approach, taking in the unwavering eyes of his fellow bishops. He was satisfied with the settled emotions, even when his own were flaring unsteadily inside. The flowers were still upset, and his head was overwhelmed by the different emotions: fear, anger, dread, resignation, and sorrow. The onslaught was so powerful, he couldn't clearly read what was going to happen.

He took in a breath and let it out, clearing his head. He stopped the berating flowers, already regretting the action of ignoring his precious floral. There was no stopping what was already set in motion, Labrador reminded his flowers.

The lavender-haired bishop kneeled before the sleeping boy, unraveling the robe's tie. His eyes swept over the skin that seemed paler than he recalled, letting both of his hands hover over the blackened scar. His palms tingled from the invisible sparks emanating from the burns, the intense dark aura already evident. Slowly, the glowing letters of his zaiphon circulated his hands, exuding a warm, healing light. He lowered his hands gently, forcing more power into his hands the closer it got. Once his zaiphon made contact with the mark, a dark glow pulsating back in resistance. Predicting this reaction, Labrador sent more of his energy into the zaiphon to battle against it, forcing his hands closer and closer to the the skin below.

Frightened green eyes shot open, his scream muted out by the shrieks between the zaiphons. The wind from the clashing auras knocked Hakuren off his feet, while the other two bishops held their ground. They looked on in horror as Labrador pushed even more emotion into his zaiphon, while a black mist tried to surround both the bishop and prince.

Tears trickled from Teito's eyes, the immense pain becoming unbearable. His skin felt like it was being torched while a blade slicing at his scorched flesh. He couldn't scream anymore, his throat too raw. There was too much pain, there was no escape. He wanted to be saved from this suffering. He wanted to die.

"Labrador!"

Labrador was thrown away by a sudden flare of energy, his lithe frame crashing into the floor behind him. The dark mist that had been trying to engulf the two retreated back into the black mark. A blast of red bursted from Teito's right hand and the once emerald eyes melted into a blood red.

"Who dares to hurt my master?!" The voice yelled, anger welling into his red eyes. He sat up, cringing. He placed an arm to cover the mark on his stomach, hissing at the burning pain. "Damn it!"

Hakuren scurried over to the fallen lavender-haired bishop, checking over him much like a worried mother. Satisfied that no physical harm had come to the lavender-haired man, he helped Labrador to his feet.

"Mikhail, why are you here?" The brunette bishop wiped at his glasses, checking for any signs of damage, before perching them back onto the bridge of his nose.

"You fools," Mikhail seethed out, trying to gain his breath back, while clutching at the now bleeding scar. "You nearly killed my master…"

"How is he?!" Frau frantically yelled, grabbing at the brunette's shoulders, shaking the boy.

He slapped away the offending hands, trying to keep his own temper down. "He's fine for now, no thanks to you fools. He's resting."

A sense of relief passed over them, but there was still the matter at hand looming over their heads. Their thoughts were interrupted by the sudden cry from the red-eyed archangel, as he was hunched over, gripping at the scar with a shaking arm.

"Damn you, Verloren…" He growled out, before he collapsed down unconscious.

00000

"What do we do now?" The blonde fidgeted, twirling his long hair in his hands, before shifting his attention to the fyulong who hopped into his lap. Looking into the dragon's eyes, a mirror of his own concern were reflected in them.

"All we can do is wait." A twitch in the brow was the only indication of irritation the man let on, as he watched a certain blonde pace back and forth in the guest room they were all currently residing in. He tried to preoccupy his mind, fiddling with ideas on how to improve on his puppet creations in his head. But the pacing continued, back and forth, and a headache was slowly forming alongside his growing twitch. "Would you settle down already?!"

The yell was the only warning before a yelp and a loud thud followed soon after. The blonde bishop nursed the ache at the back of his neck where Castor's fist had ungraciously smacked down upon.

"I know you're worried about him, but you're making me dizzy with your constant pacing." He slipped his glasses off before rubbing at his sore temples, trying to ease away the throbbing.

"Well, excuse me for walking." Frau grumbled, lifting himself back onto his feet only to push his face into the other bishop. "Since you won't let me catch up on my reading, what do you suppose I do to pass the time?"

"I don't think reading your porn magazines can count as 'catch up on your reading'!" The tensions were already high and continued to escalate, neither man ready to back down.

"He's waking up." Labrador's soft monotone voice easily pierced through the argument, settling a silence over the room as all the occupants huddled around the sole bed at the center. Just as he predicted, the bed's occupant slowly stretched out, turning his head to the side before turning back. His fingers twitched to life, before his eyelids slowly peeled open.

"What are you still doing here?!" The indignant yell from the taller blonde disturbed the peace, the boy's eyes glaring up at the owner of the offending voice. The redness shone so clearly in his eyes, mismatched with the brown hair and fair skin.

"Not that I need to tell you, but my master is still weak," Mikhail stated offhandedly, a rare smile perched on his lips with welcoming arms to Burupya, who happily accepted the gentle strokes offered by the archangel.

"There's something else, isn't there?"

"Always the perceptive one, aren't you, Fest?" Mikhail sighed, letting his eyes linger on the white sheets splayed across his lap, his fingers idly playing with the corner of the boxers he adorned. He looked thoughtful, as if considering what to say or how to word it. "My master isn't strong enough, mentally, at this moment to come out. Until I can find a way out of Verloren's grip, I can't let my master out."

"What do you mean you can't let him out?" Frau grasped at the collar of the archangel's shirt, pulling them to be face to face. "This is Teito's body, not yours."

"If you would let me finish, fool," he grumbled out, pulling his shirt out of the blonde's grip. "I know full well whose body this is, but if I let him out back now, he'll most likely get caught. That fool Verloren…"

"Is that the effect of the mark?" Castor easily pushed Frau aside, his puppets holding the struggling bishop back from interfering.

"This mark is trying to act as a seal on his soul. I'm keeping it at bay right now." The archangel smiled, accepted the offered tea from the lilac-haired bishop, who returned the smile. "Thank you, Profe."

"So until we solve this problem with that damn mark, we're stuck with you." Frau mumbled, before he let out a sigh, wondering how he was going to deal with this stubborn angel.

"Hn, I'm not exactly thrilled to be spending any more time than I already have with you." His red eyes narrowed on the other man, trying not to let himself get riled up by the irritating bishop.

"Damn midget angel," Frau mumbled under his breath, purposely loud enough for the other to hear. Mikhail countered by burning up the magazine in the blonde's hands, fully enjoying the startled expression turning to anger.

"Serves you right for picking a fight with an archangel." The brunette bishop didn't feel any pity for his friend, commanding one of his puppets to clean up the ashes of the magazine. "It's been a long day, so I'll take my leave now. Sleep well, everyone."

"I will be leaving as well." Labrador bowed his head, smiled gently at the other occupants. "Please rest up, Mikhail-sama." The lilac-haired bishop left behind a second glass of tea for the bedridden archangel before departing the room.

"I guess I'll take that as a sign to leave as well," the younger blonde bishop-in-training spoke while standing up from his chair beside the bed. "Please keep Teito safe."

"You're that human my master is so fond of." He nodded his eyes, letting his scarlet eyes meet with Hakuren's violet ones. "Thank you for staying loyal to him."

The Oak member stared awkwardly at the other, not knowing what else to do besides bow. "Of course. Teito is my important friend." He held his hand out, waiting for the pink dragon to hop to him. "I'll keep watch over this little guy for you."

With a final 'good night', Hakuren exited the room, closing the doors behind him. The silence that filled the room afterwards was unnerving and awkward, as his scarlet eyes watched the setting sun outside the window. It had been a while since he controlled his master's body, and it had never been for this long. It was kind of… nice. The amount of freedom he felt at the moment was refreshing. Not that he minded the other half of the coin; he rather enjoyed watching his master grow up. He had only wished it was under different circumstances, but this outcome still proved fruitful for his master. The only stain on his master's life that he disapproved of at the moment was currently still present in the room.

"What are you still doing here, you idiot bishop?"

"I'm amazed you would even acknowledge my existence." Frau's eyes met his crimson ones, keeping a close eye on the archangel. "I promised myself not to leave that brat's side. So here I am."

"Hmph," Mikhail crossed his arms in displeasure, before leaning his body onto the bed. "I don't see what my master sees in you."

"Must be my charms and boyish good looks." If there was one thing he wanted most at the moment, it was to knock that cheesy grin off the blonde's face.

"Then how come all I ever hear about you is how big of a pervert you are or how big of an oaf you can be?"

"Can you speak with him now?" Frau let the insult slide, knowing that this back and forth banter wasn't going to get them anywhere.

"No, he's… sleeping, at the moment."

"What's with the pause?"

His question had led to an even greater pause, the archangel unsure of whether to proceed or not. These people were his master's allies, he tried to persuade himself. And out of all of them, his master put his trust in this blonde idiot the most. He predicted an encounter with Verloren in the near future that only seemed to loom closer and closer overhead. He was going to need these Ghosts by his side if was to protect his master, even if that meant trusting Zehel.

"I can't wake him," he confessed, closing his red eyes to the world around him, and waited.

"What?! What do you mean you can't wake him?!"

"I didn't want to alarm anyone until I was sure."

"So you made up that lie about him being too mentally weak?"

"No, that part I know is true. This seal is a lot stronger than it appears. A constant flow of energy to defend against it would be too much of a strain on my master." His face scrunched into frustration, his soul trying to reach out to his master's. "But when I try to speak with him, there's no response."

"How do you know he's only sleeping then?"

"You can see it, can't you? His soul is still here."

The blonde glanced over, ensuring that what the other said was true. He peered at the boy lying on the bed, noticing the familiar beautiful soul residing in the other. But it was dim. He wanted to reach out and touch it, his hand slowly moving closer. He forcibly stopped his movement, retracting his hand. He reprimanded himself, reminding himself that the one before him wasn't his apprentice. And even if it was, he was not worthy of touching a soul so pure. God only knows how much his touch would dirty that soul. He glanced up as the archangel let out a yawn before curling up on his side, fighting back the sleep in his eyes.

"Rest up," Frau whispered, ruffling the brown tresses and earning himself a sleepy glare. "I'll definitely watch over you two."

00000

He woke up to a loud, crashing nearby, the shattering of glass making him cautious of the ground below. He stood up, mentally cringing at his stiff back from the awkward angle he had decided to sleep in. He slipped easily into a fighting stance, a sense of danger surrounding him. The strangled cry forced his eyes onto the pair before him. He could only stare as a familiar silver-haired warsfeil had a firm grip around the short brunette's throat, who was dangling dangerously by said grip.

"Mikhail!" He yelled out, gaining the attention of the Field Marshal.

"So you're familiar with this angel, Zehel." His grip on the boy's throat tightened further, ignoring the archangel's nails clawing into his hand. "I thought you were stronger than this, Mikhail."

His red eyes grew angry, as bone-like structures protruded from the Eye and hastily aimed at Ayanami. The taller man released his grip, and the moment he touched the ground, Mikhail quickly retreated backwards, his guard still up. He rubbed at his sore neck, wincing as he made contact with the newly forming bruises.

"I know you can do better than that. Is that seal putting that much of a strain on you? Or is it because you're also keeping the box closed?" A smirk formed on the man's lips, as he shifted his hat slightly. "How long can you keep this up?"

The archangel growled out, as he was forced to release more energy to protect Teito and himself from the seal. It was growing stronger with its master only a few meters away, feeding it more dark energy. He cursed inwardly at himself, unsure of his next move. As much as he didn't want to admit it, the warsfeil had certainly backed him up into a corner. With his strength divided between repelling the seal, keeping the box closed, and fighting, there was only so long he could keep it all up. He had to end this quickly.

He released a mix of zaiphon and sharpened bones and charged at the silver-haired man, depleting his energy even further. The warsfeil easily blocked each attack with his own zaiphon, a pleased smile on his lips. Mikhail grew angrier, watching as the man toyed with him, just waiting him out. He pushed further, his attacks growing more dangerous, enough where small cuts started former on the other man. Those dark violet eyes narrowed in anger, before he took on the aggressive and it was the archangel's turn to defend. Mikhail used his own zaiphon to shield against the blows and cursed out when he noticed his zaiphon waver. He opted for dodging, conserving the energy he had left. Ayanami's attacks soon took its toll on the room and walls, the damage causing the entire area to shake.

He couldn't help but feel helpless as he watched the struggle continue for the archangel against Ayanami. There was nothing he could do, as he was too focused on restraining the scythe embedded into his forearm. It would be too risky to release it with its owner so close and its target even closer.

"Mikhail! Frau!" The yells came from the doorway, where two bishops stood, preparing for battle.

Hakuren stood behind them, shock drawn across his face at the retreating archangel. "Teito!"

As the three charged into their room, they were halted by the presence of other warsfeil. "Four of you against one? That doesn't seem fair at all, now does it?" He shifted his sunglasses and dropped the finished lollipop stick to the floor. "You can take on the little one, Kona-chan." He directed his begleiter towards the bishop in training.

"Hn, fine."

With the three occupants of the doorway distracted by the oncoming battle with the Black Hawks, Ayanami kept his attention on the archangel before him. He immediately called his zaiphon to life, words of possession cycling his hands. Mikhail could see the madness overtaking his amethyst eyes. Verloren was slowly taking over.

"Verloren…"

"Now where were we?" And with that, Ayanami launched himself forward, a manic look growing in his eyes as he slashed at the archangel, purposely letting the words carve into the floor where the other once stood. Mikhail continued to dodge the onslaught by the other, wincing as he was singed from the other's zaiphon. He was moving too slow.

"You aren't fast enough, angel." The taller man sneered, his reddened eyes focusing all of their concentration on the boy.

The archangel leapt in the air, avoiding another crash as a series of zaiphon-induced rings were launched in his direction. Before his feet could touch the ground, he felt a hot rush of pain surging into his back from another ring, blasting him against the wall. He forced himself to breathe, trying to concentrate on anything but the pain. He clutched as his chest, feeling the familiar vibration of the other soul within him.

"I have to… protect you…" He forced his body up, summoning his own zaiphon to his hands.

"That's the spirit." A grin settled on the warsfeil, his own zaiphon sparking with battlelust.

Mikhail charged at the other, as the two zaiphons clashed against one another, each trying to force the other down. The friction between the opposing powers sent a powerful breeze across the room, as electric sparks flew off in all directions. The archangel felt the burn in his hands before his zaiphon was swallowed whole by the others, his words dissipating into the air around them. His body shook from the force, before flying across the room. His back slammed into the ground. He cried out from the impact, a spatter of blood flying from his mouth. He rolled over through the agony, his limbs shaking as he brought himself to his knees. He coughed once more, watching as the spray of blood dirtied the floor. His energy was depleting at an even faster rate, his hold on the seal and box weakening.

"_Mikhail_."

"M-master_?_" Mikhail froze as his surroundings slowly dissipated into darkness and he notice a small light in the distance. "Master!" He called after the other, trying to push his legs harder as he drew nearer to the light.

His chocolate locks swayed in an indiscernible wind, his innocent emerald eyes smiling sadly. A soft white glow outlined his figure with his outstretched hand looking paler than usual.

"_Thank you, Mikhail_." His lips didn't move, a solemn unfaltering smile still perched on them. Teito's voice echoed in the abyss the two occupied, resounding throughout the space. A single tear dripped from his emerald eye, trailing a mark down his smooth cheek. "_For protecting me._" The archangel, still in the form of possessing his master, reached his own hand out, trying to make contact with the other. "_But this time, I need to protect you._"

"You can't! I won't let you!" Mikhail yelled, ignoring the pain building in his chest. He pushed his fingers further, trying to inch closer to his master.

"_Mikhail…_"

The pounding in his chest grew louder and louder in his ears. He opened his eyes, not realizing when he had closed them. His scarlet eyes stared at the warmth in front of him, a soft smile in those emerald eyes he knew so well. His master had never looked so beautiful.

"_Mikhail…_"

"Tiashe…" The smile his master released made him feel so light, he wasn't sure if his feet were touching the ground anymore.

It was like drowning in heat, the light was much too bright for their naked eyes. It glowed so beautiful in a color that couldn't be described. It held reds, yellows, blues, greens, every color. It was so very white. There was purity, innocence, love and worship. It was undeniable tranquil. It was just so beautiful. It contrasted so brilliantly with the black gloved hand.

The Black Hawks leader let his darkness surround it, encasing the light into a dark ball. It was finally in his grasp, and he couldn't help letting the sinful glee display on his face. This soul was finally his.

"Hyuuga." Ayanami looked towards the major, watching as the man nodded back at him in understanding.

"Right." The dark-haired man shifted his eyes to his companions, passing on the message. And as abruptly as they had arrived, the Black Hawks were gone.

"No… no, no, no!" The tears pooled with his blood, littering the ground with his agony. His shame was suffocating him. He had failed. He slammed his fists into the filthy ground, not caring for the bruises that were slowly forming on his skin. His body shook with sorrow, rage and disappointment. "That damn reaper…"

"Teito…" The blonde bishop could only stare at the empty place that once held the Black Hawks. His forearm no longer burned, the scythe tamed once more. But his mind was trapped in disbelief.

"How…" His weary steps mimicked his tired breaths, as he trudged over towards the others with the help of one of his puppets who managed to remain intact and the smaller lilac-haired bishop. "How was it possible?"

"He took it…" The archangel growled out, clutching his arm to his stomach. "He took the damn seal." Mikhail sat up on his knees, revealing his now unscathed flesh below his navel. "He sealed himself and left this body… just to protect me."

"So he's really gone then…" The shorter blonde coughed out, before leaning his bruised body against a broken wall. He tried comforting the mewling fyulong, who came rushing out of hiding place, while trying to comfort his own pained heart. "What do we do now?"

A saddening silence settled over the battered occupants, as the four female guardian ghosts circled around them, repairing the damage. Once the building was back to normal, the guardians began their purification ritual, destroying the evil presence left behind by the warsfeils. Frau watched as their surroundings returned to what it once was, as if nothing had happened. It was like reversing time. The image of Ayanami's last words marred into the ground disappeared, the action triggered something within him. The man's last words were filled with possessiveness. He wanted nothing more than to own his apprentice. He clenched his fist, his anger slowly overriding the feeling of helplessness.

"What else can we do?" A determination unbridled itself from within him and made its presence known in his indigo eyes. Frau had made a promise, after all, and there was no way he was going to go back on it. Martyr or not, there was no way he was going to let that brat just surrender himself up like that. "But bring the brat back."

00000

It was nothing like any of them had expected. The entrance had been so unguarded, so easily infiltrated. It unnerved them, their senses heightened for the slightest of movements. It wasn't until they reached the inner sanctum that it had become clear. It was foolish of them to think so positively.

He cursed under his breath, as he scanned the area, losing count of the numbers before them. It was a trap, a very obvious trap that they had mistakenly fallen into. They were surrounded by dozens of Wars and Kors possessing soldiers of the Barsburg military.

The struggle began as they fought against the demonic beings, a heavy burden slowly filling their souls. They couldn't save them and their souls would be left to be devoured by the darkness. But this was war and not everyone could be saved. They continued the slaughter, the evil act sinking into their flesh.

He raised his gloved hand, singling for a cease of movement as the remaining Wars and Kors faltered in their steps before stilling. They took this opportunity to regain their composure and regroup, feeling helpless as they could only watch as the events played out.

"I've let you all live this long." Ayanami was unreachable, hidden behind his remaining minions with the members of the Black Hawks by his sides. And that damn smirk was still residing on his lips. "Now is the time for you to return what rightfully belongs to me."

He gritted his teeth, as he gripped at his forearm. The scythe was calling for its master, trying to burst out of his arm. The taunting of darkness echoed in his subconscious, the desire to devour souls slowly penetrating his thoughts. He tried to shake it away, but his forearm burned so fiercely, he wasn't sure how long he could keep the scythe leashed.

"Return the scythe to me, Zehel." Ayanami called, causing the scythe to pull away from its case slightly. Frau resisted, trying to draw the weapon away from its master as he physical edged away.

The sudden aggression by another broke Ayanami's attention, as a certain archangel lunged at him with his zaiphon at hand. "You should be focused on me!"

The warsfeil managed to summon his own zaiphon to shield against the attack, repelling the archangel away. He charged at the other with his own readied zaiphon, neither hindered by the force caused from the contact.

"You're still so weak, Mikhail-_sama_," he spoke, the contempt beneath his words easily readable, "does the loss of this soul hurt you that deeply?"

Ayanami let out a cruel smile, as the archangel's eyes widened. He could see it now, he could clearly see Teito's light, embedded deep within the warsfeil chest. He was crying. It was all wrong. "You bastard…"

The man let out a chuckle, before stepping back, letting his loyal followers take his place. The bishops groaned out, watching as the numbers loomed over them. No matter how many they destroyed, their numbers still seemed endless. They prepared themselves for the long battle ahead, before blasts of zaiphon flew by them and hit their targets flawlessly.

"Focus on the Black Hawks!" Hakuren's voice pierced through them, as a crowd of fellow bishops stood behind him.

"If it's a war they want, it's a war they'll get." He dramatically swished his large blonde curl away, before it settled right back into place. The near insane smile on his face made them glad he was on their side. Lance's sweet smile returned as his eyes landed on the lilac-haired bishop. "Leave this to us, Lab-shishou!"

With their baculus in hand, the bishops forced the attention of the army of Wars and Kor on themselves, allowing the others to focus on the Black Hawks. Mikhail took the opportunity to single out the leader, his zaiphon stronger as it grew with his confidence. The archangel and warsfeil launched a series of attacks at one another, slowly wearing away their surroundings. The words engraved themselves into the walls and floors, crumbling as a new set of words overlapped them. It was a mix of anger, hatred and something undeniably beautiful. Both men shared the words of protection for the soul that resided in the warsfeil's chest.

Mikhail sends a rapid fire of his zaiphon towards the taller man. He paused momentarily, a plan slowly arranging in his mind. He took a deep breath before sending a silent plea of forgiveness. He launched another series of his zaiphon towards the man, targeting the chest. Noticing the new target, Ayanami hesitated in his steps, letting a moment of surprise pass over his face. He went to evade, his steps more cautious than before. Anticipating the man's move, Mikhail took the opportunity to charge at the man where he would land. Mentally cursing himself, Ayanami tried to summon a shield and the friction caused a blast of energy, following by a heavy haze.

Once the smoke cleared, Mikhail had the silver-haired man pinned to the ground, his bone-like structures protruding from his right hand with their tips targeting the man's neck, while another piece had pierced the warfeil's cheek. Droplets of blood slowly slipped from the cut, sliding down his pale cheek and dripping to the floor below.

The archangel let his eyes wander down to the man's chest, a small smile playing over his lips. He could feel the boy's soul, the pure warmth emanating towards him. Before he could admire the light, he had to release his hold on Ayanami before bounding off and away as a sword slashed down in the area he previously resided.

"Ah, ah, I can't have you doing anything bad to Aya-tan." The tall dark-haired man smiled at the archangel, his two katanas resting at his sides.

"You've ruined Ayanami-sama face!" The exclamation came from the devoted pink-haired warsfeil, who immediately rushed to his leader's side. Relieved that Ayanami was unharmed for the most part, the short Black Hawks member immediately ran to Hyuuga's side, seeking revenge.

Mikhail turned to his companions, a silent understanding passing through their eyes. He was concocting a new plan, but it was risky. It could very well mean the end of the ghosts behind him. But for Teito, he knew they were willing.

"Fest." Mikhail spoke the name, receiving a nod from the bishop he called upon. Castor took a step forward, before he felt a small tug at his sleeve. He looked back into the soft lavender eyes of his younger bishop companion.

"Be careful," Labrador whispered before releasing his hold on the taller bishop's sleeve.

"Now this doesn't seem fair at all." The taller Black Hawks member shrugged, as he noticed that Castor was the only one to step forward. Hyuuga watched on as dozens of dolls dressed as nuns showed up beside the bishop. "A bit fairer."

"I hope you'll take it easy on me." The brunette bishop's words were heavily dipped in sarcasm.

Before the three could engage in their battle with Castor and his dolls, a long-haired blonde bishop-in-training eagerly showed up beside the bishop.

"Your battle is with me." Hakuren pointed his baculus at the blonde begleiter. "I have a score to settle with you." With Konatsu distracted, Castor turned his attention on the remaining two.

"This seems almost fair now, wouldn't you say?" Hyuuga smiled behind his glasses, before he glanced up and charged at the bishop with his two katanas ready for battle. Kuroyuri followed afterwards, a sword too large for his stature in hand.

The brunette bishop commands his puppets to attack as well, evading as he knew his main priority was to keep the two warsfeils entertained. He watched on from a distance, unknown to the two, as his duplicate fought along side his dolls. Slowly, his dolls' numbers were dropping, and he would have to reveal himself soon. Before he could enter the battle, he felt a presence behind him and immediately dodged the attack from the swords. He cursed himself for not noticing when Hyuuga had gone behind him, amazed that the warsfeil had known his location. The time for playing was over. Castor silently let his strings web around them, as he used his zaiphon to shield against the two katanas trying to slice him into pieces.

A dance of sword slashes and ghost strings erupted, neither side leading for long. Castor was thrown to the ground, his puppets' limbs showered around him, as he watched his glasses crash into pieces at his side. He winced at the lacerations in his skin from the blades. The two warsfeil limped backwards, trying to regain their own breaths as they fought against the strings wrapped around them, pained from their own wounds. They were at a stalemate.

Ayanami looked on as the remaining two bishops and the archangel stood before him. He turned to the taller bishop, eyeing the man's arm. He mentally called out to his weapon, intrigued by the black tendrils erupting from the blonde's forearm. Frau struggled to keep the weapon at bay, as it slowly took shape into a black scythe. Mikhail and Labrador stood their ground, keeping an eye on both Frau and Ayanami.

"You want it so badly? Take it!" Frau released the scythe from his arm, charging his entire body at the silver-haired man. But inches before the scythe could reach the man's body, it repelled back and tried to push backwards.

Ayanami smirked, amusement filling his eyes. "Do you really think you can hurt me with my own scythe? You're more foolish than I thought, Zehel." He lifted his hand up, drawing the scythe even closer to him. A ripping sensation scorched through Frau's arm, as the other was slowly pulling the scythe out. His screams were swept away in the pain he felt, as he used his own power to keep a hold onto the scythe. "I'll take back what's mine."

The blonde's lips curled upwards, a smile forming on them. "I wasn't trying to hit you with it."

Ayanami cursed out, as he felt the vines wrap around his legs, as a certain smaller bishop quickly planted seeds into his skin. The vines continued to crawl up, wrapping around his torso until they settled for his chest. He ripped at the vines, watching as the pieces fell, only for more vines to take their place. The small leaves perched on the vines began to glow. He felt the tug deep within his chest. He clutched his hands to his chest, trying to stop the pull. The light got brighter as it slowly pried out from the man's chest. The warmth surged around him and with a final pull, it completely withdrew from the other. The light flickered, the warmth wavering before the ball of light descending to the floor. Mikhail dove down, grasping at the orb before rolling away. He clutched it to his chest, not caring for the hot tears that slid from his eyes.

"Master…"

Zaiphon rings soared through the air before slamming down into the ground. The impact tossed the bishops aside, and the dust from the rubble created a mist over everything. Once the dust settled, Labrador tried to pull himself up, noticing an exhausted Frau lying beside him, clutching desperately at his forearm. His eyes scanned the area for the archangel, before they stopped on the scene before him.

"Mikhail-sama!" Labrador called out, while reaching out to the other, preparing to stand up.

"Don't move or I'll kill him." His narrowed eyes turned from the smallest bishop too the archangel who was frozen within the zaiphon around his neck. "Return it to me."

A flash of rebellion sparked in the red eyes, causing the warsfeil to twitch his fingers slightly, enough to bring the ring of zaiphon even closer to the archangel's neck. The pleading from the soul tugged painfully at Mikhail's heart as his grasp on the warm light loosened. Ayanami swiftly walked towards the released soul, letting it rest on his free gloved hand.

"Just as I remember it." His eyes slowly clouded over, an illusion filling his vision. A foreign warmth invading his features, the sincerity surprising everyone who was witnessing the sight. "Always the beautiful soul…"

He turned his eyes to the archangel trapped in his zaiphon. As he stared on, no emotions were read on his face. His stoic face was crueler than his smirk, as his intent was easily predicted. "Now you can die and go back to your God."

"_Stop!_" The loud scream echoed in his mind, the plead filled with sorrow and desperation.

"Eve…" His hand froze, his mouth gaped from the sudden outburst.

"That's not Eve, Verloren!" Mikhail gasped out from the warsfeil hold on him, the zaiphon pressing into his skin. "That is not Eve's soul!" He cried out as Ayanami tightened his hold further, causing the zaiphon to press into his neck harder.

"Mikhail-sama!" The lilac-haired bishop cried out, as he witnessed the small red slit forming on the other's neck from the zaiphon slowly digging in.

"Eve's soul has returned, Verloren!" "_She's waiting for you, Verloren_." His zaiphon faltered as his mind was reeling from the voices coming at him.

"Eve's soul is back in heaven." "_She's looking for you._" His hold on the archangel disappeared entirely, as he clutched at the pain invading his head. He yelled out in agony, unable to hear the worried calls from his comrades.

"You will be forgiven, Verloren." "_She has forgiven you, Verloren._"

The pain in his head vanished, leaving nothing but black. He peered up, squinting to try to see, but everything around him was dark. As if a light switch had been turned on, his surroundings were filled with the harsh light, the brightness burning at his retinas.

"_Why?_" Her voice was so soft, he could almost fool himself into thinking it didn't exist. "_Why did you...?_" But now the voice was clearer and he couldn't pretend. He couldn't look away.

"_I had to._" A voice so familiar to him responded. "_I couldn't lose you…_" The sound of drops vibrated through his skull and he felt the wetness on his cheeks.

The smile on her face was so terribly sad, and he was filled with shame. She must have hated him now. The blood was pooling around them too fast, it seeped deep into his clothes. Her blood was everywhere it felt. It was so warm to the touch. It was nothing like her body, so cold, so icy cold.

The light left her eyes and all he could was clutch the soulless body to his own, choking on his tears that couldn't fall fast enough. He remembered now. He had done it. He had killed her. He had broken the one rule he set for himself and that was to never touch her. Because his touch was nothing but death.

But he couldn't lose her. He couldn't lose her to _him_. It was his fault, it was that idiot's fault. Adam had no right to have Eve's love. No, not just him. It was God's fault. God had created that human just for his daughter to love. Because God loved Eve as much as Eve loved the humans and He knew. He knew what his daughter's love would bring. He knew what his daughter was going to sacrifice for her beloved humans. Because God was willing to lose just as much.

His resentment bubbled inside of him once again, the anger at everything returning once more. His heart wrenched between the pain of losing his beloved Eve and the anger of the betrayal by his Creator. He wanted to destroy it all.

"It's okay." The light was so warm. It was so unbearably warm. "It's okay, Verloren."

He watched on in childish fascination as the warm light suddenly before him slowly took shape, morphing into a boy he knew so well. The gentle locks of hair colored in hazelnut swayed with the invisible wind and those sea-green eyes washed over him so sweetly. If those strands of hair were longer, he could have sworn…

"Eve." He reached his hand out, stopping midway as the boy shook his head from side to side.

"I'm not but I can take you to her." He reached his own hand out, pale palm exposed to the older man. His soft eyes crinkled up into a smile, as his full lips curled up gently. The silver-haired man couldn't help but feel like his body was being wrapped up in heat, not suffocatingly but just perfectly so. He was entranced by the other, letting his naked hand hover above the other's. He hesitated, as his eyes skimmed over the area that held his beloved's dead body, only to find it empty. There was nothing but the ocean now, washing up against the sandy shore at their feet. The brunette boy was covered in a pure white like untouched snow. The robe was so pristine, it hurt his eyes to look at. He glanced down at his own body, his usual black attire now just a dull grey. His eyes met with the pale hand once more before he let his own fall into the other's grasp.

The boy pulled gently at his hand, leading him across the sand. He felt his feet sink with each step, going further and further down into the sand. Fear began to tug at his heart as it felt like invisible hands were pulling him down. He tightened his hold on the other and looked desperately into those emerald eyes.

"Just let go." The boy smiled, squeezing his own hand to reassure the man. "Let go off all those bad feelings."

Was it really that simple, Verloren questioned in his mind. He closed his eyes and slowly felt the hands disappear. When he opened them again, he was faced with steps that rivaled the boy's clothes. He looked down at himself once more and noticed his clothes had become a lighter grey. His questioning gaze was met with a peaceful smile.

"They will never be completely white. But you have been forgiven." His green eyes gestured towards the steps before them. "Go. She's waiting."

His eyes raked up the steps, the end not visible. But he could see a familiar light faintly shining ahead. It was the most beautiful light he had yearned to see for much too long. He took a few hesitant steps, looking back on the stairs to make sure he left no marks behind. Satisfied with the still clean surfaces, he looked back towards the boy he was leaving behind. He simply nodded before continuing on the path.

00000

"Teito? Teito, wake up. Please, open your eyes." He opened his eyes slowly, a refreshed feeling wash over him. He felt lighter, as if something was missing. His eyes met familiar indigo ones, as a smile tugged at his lips. A smile lit up on the man's face, as relief washed over his frame. He was gently lifted up into a sitting position, pausing to let the lightheaded feeling fade away. His eyes bounced from face to face, his heart warming at the presence of his comrades, glad that each of them was still alive and breathing. Then his eyes landed on the last person standing by his side and his heart skipped a beat.

"M-Mikhael?"

"Master." The archangel nodded, amused by their current situation. He felt awkward, standing before his master. He looked down at his own body, grimacing slightly as his surroundings could be easily seen through him. If there ever was a need to define a ghost, he certainly filled that purpose.

"How did this happen?" Teito hesitantly reached out, as his hand passed straight through the archangel.

"It's okay, Master." Mikhail smiled sadly, avoiding the question. He watched as the other boy managed to pull himself up with help from Frau. He watched as his master stared down at his right hand, his forehead wrinkling up in thought.

"Are we…?" The question was left unfinished, hanging in the air over the two. A simple shake of the archangel's head and the disappointment began to well up in the prince. He clasped his left hand over his right, his thumb idly rubbing at the empty area.

Teito distracted his depressing thoughts as he stared in the area he knew Ayanami had been last seen. He was nowhere to be seen and the Black Hawks or the army of Wars and Kor were also missing. The bishops who had fought beside them were tending to the wounded, as well as the soldiers who had managed to be saved. A solemn feeling had phased over them all, a strange peace settling over the scenery.

"So what really happened with Eve and Verloren?" Castor intervened the conversation, his curiosity peaked from all the happenings, as he glanced at the final word left behind by Ayanami: Eve.

"Eve loved the humans. And because God loved his daughter so much, he created Adam, knowing Eve would fall in love with him. This would ultimately cause her to sin, which forced Verloren's hand to kill her," Mikhail explained, matter-of-factly, but the sorrow in his eyes gave him away.

"It was all planned then." Castor shifted, taking in the archangel's story. "But why would He kill his own daughter?"

"Because Eve's love for the humans started to make God's affection towards humans waver. But if Eve's blood flowed through the humans, God's love for the humans would strengthen."

"Eve's blood… you don't mean-" Frau stared at his apprentice, who was off in his own world, playing happily with Burupya who had snuggled into his lap. He wasn't sure where the little dragon had come from, but he was glad for the happiness shining from Teito's face.

"Master has the purest form of her blood. If it helps, he could be defined as a direct descendant of Eve's." Mikhail kneeled down,

"So that's why Verloren was after his soul. He thought it was Eve's."

"Ironically enough, Vertrag locked within my Master the key to Verloren's memory, a hidden fragment if you will."

"So it was no accident that Ayanami and I…" Teito trailed off, rewinding the sequences in his life to the very first moment they had met. He realized how strongly their destinies were intertwined, so much that he really didn't have any control over it.

"Doesn't make him any less of a bastard," Frau offhandedly stated, making sure his comment fully sunk into the brunette boy's head. "Fate or not, we still have control over what we do and how we do it."

Teito noticed a feather flowing gently down towards him, a pure white like freshly fallen snow. He reached his hand out to touch it, the contact causing the feather to vanish. He glanced up, holding in his breath at the two wings perched from the archangel's back, noticing the lack of cuffs that usually pierce them. He stood, marveling at the beautiful wings enveloped in such a warm, harmless white light.

"Well what do you know? He really is an angel." Frau smiled at Mikhail's indignant scoff.

"It seems it is time for me to return then." The archangel sighed in happiness, knowing that everything was finally over. Mikhail nodded his gratitude towards the bishops. He stood in front of Teito, trying to ignore the ache in his chest from the saddened look the brunette wore. "We'll meet again, Tiashe." The archangel glanced over at the tall blonde hovering behind the boy.

"Protect him for me," Mikhail requested out of the blonde, before leaning over so his ghost-like lips looked as if they touched Teito's. A mischievous look passed over his face, before it was replaced with a genuine smile. He chuckled lightly at the blush that covered the other's face. "Goodbye, Master."

"Goodbye, Mikhail." Teito returned the smile, before watching the archangel's existence scatter, the flecks of light disappearing. "So should we-"

Before Teito could finish his sentence, a pair of lips were smothered over his own. He tried to let out a gasp, but a tongue slowly pried between his lips, exploring his mouth freely. His mind was numb, as he let the sensations take the place of his thoughts. It wasn't until he felt a dangerously roaming hand travel down his back that he pushed the other away.

"There's no way I'm letting that damn midget angel have the last kiss." Frau smirked triumphantly at the even darker blush that took over his apprentice's face.

"You damn perverted bishop!" Before Teito could should his disapproval, a large fist slammed down onto the blonde's head.

"Shall we find something to eat? You must be starving." Castor led Teito away, not caring for the whining mess of a bishop he left behind.

"I'll make some tea then." Labrador smiled, casually walking on the other side of the brunette boy.

Hakuren let out a sigh, before following after the departing trio. He knew things would only get more interesting from here on out.

**00000**

Note: Is it finished? I think it's finished… By the way, why do so many characters have purple-colored eyes? Just an observation. So I meant to stop this a lot earlier, but I just kept writing. Kind of annoying but whatever. Hopefully this is now considered finished in my books - it was a lot longer than I anticipated. If you enjoyed this or at least thought it wasn't boring, that's wonderful. Leave a review if you want.


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